


Times Have Changed

by Dorca



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One)
Genre: M/M, Robots In Disguise
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-02
Updated: 2013-04-02
Packaged: 2017-12-07 05:45:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,641
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/744956
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dorca/pseuds/Dorca
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Metalhawk tries to convince Starscream to put his past behind him.  Set about halfway through RID 12.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Times Have Changed

**Author's Note:**

> So this is for all the Metalhawk/Starscream shippers out there. Like, all four of us.
> 
> I, uh, I've never really written porn before, but there was none out there for this pairing. No art, no fic, no nothing. I had to do something.
> 
> It does not make sense for this pairing to be so rare.

“Don’t go.”

  
Starscream’s expression betrayed nothing as he turned away from his balcony. Metalhawk stood in his doorway. His only friend—or so he had dared to assume. These days it was hard to be sure, and friendship was a matter of perspective. Much like victory.

“Why are you here?” he asked. “Wheeljack told me you don’t trust me. You think I’m planning something. And I know you haven’t been happy with me lately, so _why_ are you _here_?”

“You’re going to make a terrible mistake,” Metalhawk replied. “I know our friendship has been… strained lately, but I wanted to try to talk some sense into you.”

Starscream laughed. “I’m not going anywhere. Why would I? I am so close to having everything.” He said it like he didn’t even believe that anymore.

“You’re going to go to Megatron. You do not have to, Starscream.” Metalhawk stepped up beside him and laid a hand on the Decepticon’s shoulder. It was supposed to be reassuring.

“You don’t know what he did to me,” Starscream replied. He shrugged the friendly hand off and turned back to the balcony overlooking what was left of their once great planet. “You don’t know what it was like, serving him for all those years.”

“I’ve heard stories.” Metalhawk looked out over Cybertron, taking in the same sights. “I have also heard stories of _your_ deeds, Starscream. I know your body count rivals that of Megatron and Optimus Prime.” He held out a hand, gesturing over the motley assortment of ships and buildings down below. Their legacy. Their home. “But times have changed.”

“He needs to—“

“He doesn’t control you anymore.”

Starscream’s jaw clenched. Megatron _didn’t_ control him anymore. But he hadn’t won, either. He hadn’t overthrown his old leader like he always hoped he eventually would. Megatron himself had once believed Starscream capable of it, given time. A great _deal_ of time, of course, but that mattered little to a Cybertronian. He wanted to look his former master in the optics. He wanted to hear it from Megatron’s vocalizer—“ _You did it, Starscream. You won._ ”

He never would.

He had been chosen by the Metrotitan. All he ever wanted was within his grasp.

But he would never have that satisfaction.

Metalhawk put that hand back on his shoulder, trying to comfort him. It didn’t work. It took most of Starscream’s self-control to prevent him from lashing out at the other bot. “After the election—“

Starscream laughed. “Oh, yes. The election. What _do_ you think will happen after the election, Metalhawk? Do you still think I have a chance at winning?”

“I think all three of us have a _chance_ …”

“The Autobots will never vote for anyone but an Autobot. And now that _he_ has returned, I don’t even have the tentative Decepticon support I was counting on. And even if I _did_ win, do you think the Autobots would accept me as a leader? Your people might, despite hating the Decepticons as much as Bumblebee and his friends do, but Prowl will probably just have me assassinated in my sleep cycle.”

“We must all adapt in this new world,” Metalhawk replied, remaining as calm as ever. It was frustrating. Infuriating. Starscream spun to look him in the optic.

“Would _you_ accept me as a leader, Metalhawk?”

Silence.

Silence was worse than rejection, but the meaning was clear enough.

The Seeker’s laugh was bitter and a little bit sad. “That’s what I thought.”

“I think you need guidance,” Metalhawk admitted.

“What?”

“I think you’ve never had a plan beyond Megatron’s defeat. I think you wouldn’t know what to do with victory if you had it.”

“Cybertron needs _stability_ and _security_ and—“

Metalhawk shook his head, cutting Starscream off. “Listen to yourself. You’re just spouting off the same political nonsense you feed to the people to keep them happy. You don’t actually have a plan. So tell me, Starscream—are you actually in this for Cybertron, or are you in this because you have something to prove?”

Starscream found himself at a loss for words. Metalhawk turned away. “And that’s what _I_ thought.”

“Metalhawk—“

“Starscream?”

“I know I _started_ like that. I admit it. I was in it for the glory. But this past year… Frag, I shouldn’t be telling you this. You’re my political _rival_ , for crying out loud!” Starscream pushed his way past Metalhawk and sat down on his recharge table, frustrated.

“We have our differences, true,” Metalhawk agreed. He followed Starscream back inside and stood in front of him. “We have different methods… but is our goal not the same? We both want freedom and acceptance for our people.”

“You think my people are monsters.”

“Yes.” It was honest, at least. “And I know you were once a monster as well.” Metalhawk sat down at the edge of Starscream’s table. It was better that way. Here he was at the same level, not standing up and looking down at his friend. “But you have the potential for change. As do we all.”

Starscream turned to face his friend, silent once again. Metalhawk was many things (chief among them, a pain in his aft), but he had always seemed honest. Sometimes that honesty was blunt, sometimes it was even brutal, but he spoke his mind.

Starscream remembered when he had been like that, back before Megatron had beat it out of him.

Metalhawk offered Starscream his hand, and Starscream accepted it. “I am not the same bot that I was during the war. None of us are. You are right, we have _all_ had to change and adapt. And I have realized… I truly _do_ want to make a difference.”

Metalhawk smiled.

“But there is a part of me—a large part of me—that is still fighting. I fought for millions of years… and for a large part of that, I was fighting my own leader as well as the Autobots. I cannot just let go of that. I cannot just… move on.”

“You wanted to impress him,” Metalhawk suggested, understanding.

Starscream nodded. “He once told me that one day I would defeat him. One day _I_ would lead. But now he is an Autobot prisoner, mostly by chance, and he has no idea how close I am to winning it all. My victory will mean nothing to him.”

“Starscream,” Metalhawk said, turning to face the Seeker directly, “perhaps you should spend less time trying to impress Megatron and more time trying to impress those who actually care about you.”

“No one cares about me anymore,” Starscream said.

“Someone does,” Metalhawk said.

Metalhawk was a leader and a politician above all else. He relied on his words… but when he met Starscream’s lips with his own, he knew he couldn’t have made his point more effectively.

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It took a few moments for Starscream to realize what he was doing. He pulled away, almost falling off of the table. “What was _that_?”

“Surely that was not your first kiss, Starscream,” Metalhawk replied. He didn’t even seem flustered! If anything, he only seemed annoyed at being interrupted.

“Well… no. I just wasn’t expecting it, and you were so angry at me, and we’re _rivals_ , and...”

“Apparently I have overstepped myself,” Metalhawk admitted. He stood up and brushed himself off before turning to the door. “I hope you can bring yourself to look past this.”

“Wait,” Starscream said. “Just… give me a moment.” He transmitted a security code to his door, locking it remotely. Metalhawk looked back over his shoulder. Starscream gestured for him to sit back down, and he did. For a few minutes—the longest few minutes Starscream had encountered in a while—no one spoke.

“We all need friends in this world,” Metalhawk finally said. “The Autobots have each other. You and I, though… You and I are not so different. I admit that, despite our disagreements, I have become… fond of you over the past few months.”

“That’s funny,” Starscream said. “Most bots who work with me for a few months feel the opposite.”

Metalhawk smiled slightly and repeated himself: “Times have changed.”

“And so have I.”

“And so have you.”

Metalhawk’s hand was on his leg now, and Starscream saw no reason to object. “You said I’d need guidance. You were hoping that guidance would be you?”

Metalhawk raised an optic ridge. “Surely you do not doubt my motivation. Should you win the election, I would be happy to advise you no matter how we end things here. Perhaps I will even be able to guide you towards a straighter path.”

“Yes… I suppose I know you better than that,” Starscream assured him. “You’re not the type who would sleep your way to power.” He could respect that. He had known about the rumors, but he wasn’t that type either, despite what the other Decepticons may have thought about him. “Especially when… you know, I might not even win.”

“But you might. And if you do, I will be happy to stand beside you.”

“Then drop out of the race and back me,” Starscream suggested.

Metalhawk shook his head. “I support _you_ , Starscream. I simply do not support all of your ideas. We will both run, and may the best bot win.” He reached for Starscream’s hand and brought it to his lips. “I only hope that we will remain close, no matter the outcome.”

Starscream looked at Metalhawk, considering the situation. It had been a long time since he had had a partner… and an even longer time since he had had a friend. On top of everything else he had learned since the war had ended, it seemed he was learning to trust again. “I find that I am fond of you as well,” he confessed.

“I have a condition,” Metalhawk said.

Starscream wasn’t surprised. “Yes?”

“You have to choose. Me, or Megatron.” Metalhawk said. His tone left no room for argument. “If I stay here with you tonight, if we decide to take this further, you will not go down there to talk to him. You’re done with him.” Starscream hesitated, and Metalhawk leaned forward to place his hand on the Seeker’s chest, over his spark. “Who do you want to impress more?”

Starscream let his optics examine Metalhawk’s narrow frame… the broad shoulders, the unusual wing placement. He admired the other bot’s complementing colors and cool blue optics. Autobot optics, but Metalhawk was no Autobot. He was no Decepticon either, but they were headed for a world where that wouldn’t matter anymore.

This time, Starscream was the first to lean in.

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

As they kissed, Starscream moved to gently guide Metalhawk further back onto the table. His partner straddled his hips, careful not to pin Starscream’s wings under his knees. That was a good sign—many bots forgot too easily, or simply didn’t care. He shouldn’t have been surprised, though. Metalhawk wasn’t a Seeker, but he did fly.

With that in mind, Starscream ran his hands down Metalhawk’s wings. They were long and thin, so foreign compared to his own. Seeker wings were comfortable and familiar. Not long ago, Starscream would never have imagined doing this with someone so different.

Times had changed.

Metalhawk put his hands on Starscream’s shoulders, above the vents. He let his wings splay out to the sides, in easy reach. He let the tips trail against the Seeker’s own wings, eliciting a shudder from Starscream as he moved his hands up and down, hoping for the same response. He was not disappointed.

“Wasn’t sure that would work,” Starscream mumbled into Metalhawk’s neck. Metalhawk laughed. Starscream hadn’t heard that sound often, and decided that he wanted to hear it more in the future.

“I told you we weren’t so different,” Metalhawk replied. He kissed the vents on either side of Starscream’s helm.

“I didn’t think that was—agh—“ he grunted as Metalhawk started to grope at his pelvic plating. “—what you meant.”

Metalhawk smirked as Starscream’s plating retracted, revealing his partly pressurized cable. “Well, _that’s_ a bit of a difference,” he said. He sounded impressed, and Starscream was both pleased and embarrassed by that realization. After a moment’s consideration, Metalhawk took the cable into his mouth. Starscream tensed up and grasped at his partner’s wings, gasping. It had been _such_ a long time…

*Relax,* Metalhawk messaged him, not willing to take his mouth off of the Seeker beneath him. *Enjoy yourself.*

The other bot moved his lips up and down Starscream’s cable, occasionally flicking at the tip with his tongue. He could feel it pressurizing in his mouth, the charge building. Starscream sat up, supporting himself with one hand and placing the other on the back of Metalhawk’s helm.

Metalhawk could feel the pressure building in his own cable as well. He pulled himself off of Starscream and retracted his own plating. He sat back and let the shaking Seeker take in the sight. Metalhawk was somewhat smaller than Starscream was, but slim and graceful. He liked the hungry look he saw in Starscream’s optics, so he moved to position himself against the Seeker’s port.

“Hey, hey—what are you doing?” Starscream asked.

“You _do_ know how this works, don’t you?” Metalhawk teased. He ran a finger over Starscream’s opening, relishing the way the other bot’s optics flickered when he was aroused.

“Of course I do,” Starscream snapped. “I just assumed…”

“If our people choose you as their leader, then we’ll talk,” Metalhawk said. He was smirking, and Starscream could have sworn it was an expression learned from him. “But this time… well, this _was_ my idea.”

Starscream had no response to that (for once in his life), so he lay back and spread his legs. Metalhawk eased himself in slowly, moaning as Starscream’s port clenched around him. When he was all the way in, the seeker reached up and grabbed him by the shoulder vents, pulling him down for a kiss as Metalhawk rocked against him, pushing him even deeper into his port. “Frag,” he murmured, finding his companion’s aft and gripping it tightly.

Metalhawk thrust into him again, letting his hands wander over Starscream’s rapidly heating frame. Starscream caught one of those hands and guided it back down to his cable, and Metalhawk was happy to oblige him. He could feel his own charge building, his own frame heating up from the sensation. It had been a long time for him, too.

“Wings,” Starscream grunted, and Metalhawk used his free hand to trace the impressive wingspan before him. Starscream’s wings twitched and his optics flickered again as he arched up into the smaller bot. “Perfect… ah, _yes_ … _faster_ …”

Metalhawk could not refuse. Sensors that had not been online in centuries were teeming with input, sending wonderful feelings straight to his spark. They came together again and again, beyond words, beyond thought. There was no Megatron between them here, no war, no election. There was only Starscream, only Metalhawk.

Starscream went first, living up to his name as his sensors overloaded. He cried out, any last words he might have intended to say lost in his shrieks. He was beautiful in that moment of surrender, Metalhawk noticed, as beautiful in overload as he was in victory. It was enough to make Metalhawk’s sensors follow suit. His overload was quieter, but no less passionate. He collapsed against the Seeker, panting with exertion, and was pleased to feel Starscream’s arms around him, holding him closed.

Times _had_ changed.

“When I win,” Starscream mumbled, “I’ll be sure to keep you close.”

Metalhawk made a noncommittal sound of agreement and rested his head on Starscream’s shoulder. They lay like that for a long time before settling into recharge. Metalhawk dreamt of a bright future, of ruling _with_ Starscream, of peace between all Cybertronians.

But when Metalhawk woke up the next morning, his city was on fire and Starscream was gone.


End file.
